


It's Wrong

by David_Helios



Category: Spooky Month (Short Films - Sr Pelo)
Genre: I'm Bad At Tagging, ask to tag, mention of incest, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:42:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29790054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/David_Helios/pseuds/David_Helios
Summary: Roy has a realization about his uncle, and plans his revenge.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	1. It's Wrong

"It's Wrong.."

The phrase echoed through Roy's mind endlessly like a mantra.. His friends had once told him that in response to hearing what his uncle does.. Roy had always felt a little iffy about, but up until this point, he assumed it was just normal uncle-nephew "bonding" activities, as the older man had called it.. The more he thought about it, REALLY thought about it.. The more it made sense. Roy had been trying to ignore the horrible feeling he was left with everytime his uncle finished touching him, but it was too strong this time, he couldn't push it down any longer. He trembled with the sickening realization his relationship with his uncle wasn't normal, not in the slightest. But what could he do about it? When it first started, and he told his parents, they only stared and laughed it off. He was sure if he tried to touch upon the subject again, the same thing would happen. The police weren't an option, his uncle had connections there, and could bribe off every single officer in the SPPD a thousand times over with his considerable wealth.. Roy's chest grew tight and his eyes burned with tears, his stomach churned, and before he could hop up and run to the bathroom, or, at the very least, a nearby trashcan, his stomach emptied itself all over his bedroom floor. His legs buckled, and he heaved until every last drop painted his carpet. He slumped over to the side next to the mess, feeling so weak and helpless in that moment. He hated it, he hated it so much, he wanted to curl up in a corner and die like some sort of pest, or a punch a wall until his hand was broken and bloody, or even both. He settled for sobbing on his floor, the foul smelling stench of his puke the only thing grounding him to reality..

Roy stayed there on the floor for who knows how long, shivering and hiccuping and wishing things weren't the way they were.. His eyes were red and puffy from crying, and the side of his face was cold and stung from laying in the filth for so long.. He got up, eventually, and tried to pull himself together. He washed his face, and scrubbed the vomit out from his carpet, but he felt empty now, not just in his stomach, but he felt like something was ripping out from his chest, leaving him with a huge, gaping hole on display for all the world to see.. It was then he remembered the concerned faces of his friends.. Oh god, they knew now.. They knew the things he's done, they knew he was.. Dirty.. Would they cut him out of their friend group for that? What if they spread it around.. Then everyone would look at him like that.. With pity.. With.. With disgust, even.. Disdain for the weird kid who gets fucked by his uncle seven ways to sunday.. He couldn't help it, it wasn't his fault, but that didn't stop him from blaming himself.. He should have tried harder to tell his parents what was happening, he should have come out about the abuse, but it was too late.. He's dirty, broken, and used.. Nothing but a little whore, he told himself. He sat on his bed, staring at the wet spot on his carpet with leaky eyes. Just a whore.. Just a slut.. Tainted and filthy.. Who'd ever wanna be near such a sad, pitiful thing like himself.. The longer he dwelt on the matter, the more intense the feelings of resentment grew. Resentment for himself, for his parents, his friends, and.. His uncle.. His uncle was the reason he felt like this.. Roy's sadness grew and contorted into anger, god, he was fuming.. He'd never felt such a hatred for anyone, not even the spooky kids..

Roy shook, but this time it was from an unrelenting rage. Crying and wallowing in self pity wasn't his style in the slightest, no.. He was more of a man of action.. And by god, if nobody would help him, he'd help himself. Images and ideas of how to exact his revenge for ruining him ran through his mind.. He grabbed his notebook, flipping to a fresh page and starting to write every single one of them down. A huge, wicked grin was plastered on his face as he scribbled down sentences that could chill even Satan to his core.. He wound up filling the front and back of nearly ten pages by the time he was done, and even then, he was only taking a short break because his hand had cramped up from how much he was writing. He had more ideas, so many more horrible and disgusting punishments fit for someone like his uncle, but for now, he settled on the most attainable and easy method.. Roy's uncle would rue the day his nephew was thrust into this world, and he'd make sure of that the next time he saw him..


	2. Hospital visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and his parents visit his uncle. Nothing much. Short and sweet chapter.

Sunday. The day his uncle would take him to an abandoned house on the hill.. At least, he usually would.. At some point a while ago, his uncle got into a freak accident and broke several bones in his body. Unfortunately, he survived, but Roy took that with a grain of salt, and a heaping load of sugar.. If he'd died, he wouldn't be able to enact his plans.. Roy looked over his notebook, tweaking and tuning everything he wrote the day before this to what he deemed perfection.. When he was done with that, he began to make even MORE plans.. He was an odd child, that was true, and if anyone had a problem with it, they could take it up with his fists. Who gave a fuck if his "friends" avoided him because of his traumas, he didn't need them. He didn't need ANYONE. He just needed to see his uncle get what was coming to him.. He wondered if Ross and Rob were free, he kinda wanted pizza, but didn't want to go to the mall and sit in the food court alone.. He'd have to phone them up later.. But for now, he worked on the ins and outs of his revenge, accounting for every detail he could imagine. He snickered away at his desk with a sadistic little grin..

Nearly a month had passed since the accident with Eyes, Roy and his parents were visiting his uncle.. Roy stayed quiet, as per usual, kicking his legs gently while sat upon a chair. He stared at the floor, the hospital equipment, out the window.. Anywhere to avoid making eye contact with his uncle.. He was pissed off, having to be in the same stuffy room as that monster.. His parents scolded him for letting it show on his face, and his uncle, that bastard, effortlessly played his part..

"No, it's fine. He's young and probably upset he's not with his buds, aren't you?"

He said, shooting a smile at his nephew. Roy could barely suppress the urge to hop onto the hospital bed and strangle him to death. He bit his tongue, and nodded slowly, trying to hide how tense he was. His uncle laughed, and continued his conversation with Roy's parents.

"A few months of physiotherapy, and I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Roy heard them say at some point, which, to him, meant he'd be right back to taking him to dark, musty buildings, and rape him. "Besides that ugly brown hair, you look just like your father.." He'd say while kissing him with his disgusting lips that tasted like whiskey. God, just thinking about it made him feel sick. He couldn't, simply WOULDN'T endure another second of that torment.. They're in their most vulnerable state, but he can't do it here. He'd have to wait until they get discharged from the hospital.. He wondered if he'd even be strong enough to do it when that time comes.. He can only hope.. And do a few pushups in his free time, of course.


	3. Candy Bags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> B)

Roy walked on the sidewalk, his two closest friends following along behind him, chatting away to each other about meaningless crap. His attention was grabbed when he heard his name. He tilted his head to the side slightly to listen to what the taller one, Rob, had to say.

"You okay, man? You've been really quiet."

Ross, his other friend, nodded in agreement. He wasn't usually this untalkative, so of course it worried them. Ever since The Eyes, Roy was more mindful of what he said around the two taller boys. He was worried he'd accidentally scare them away if he let them know more than they needed to, which, in this case, happened to be pretty much everything on his mind. He wanted to talk to them, he really did, but he didn't want to lose them if he opened up. Memories of his breakdown that night flashed through his mind, and he shuddered.

"I'm fine, just keep talking about your happy fellas or whatever."

He said sarcastically, and waved them off coldly. He continued walking, only pausing when he realized the two weren't following anymore. Dreadfully, Roy turned around, and there it was. That same look of pity.. He knew what they were thinking, he had hoped the two forgot he ever said anything about it to them in the first place, but, of course, that wasn't the case. Rob began talking, but before he could comprehend what was happening in the moment, Roy was already running from them, tears pricking the sides of his eyes, crescents forming in his palms from the tight fists he unconsciously form. His friends were running after him, shouting for him to stop, but he didn't listen, he simply ran and ran and ran.. Until he lost them.. He hid in a bush with his hands over his mouth, hearing their footsteps get closer.. He listened as they called for him for what seemed like an eternity.. And watched as they finally left.. Once he felt like he was alone, he let out the waterworks. He slowly laid down, his clothes getting muddy from the ground, and sobbed. "Why.. WHY?!" He wondered to himself, "WHY CAN'T I LET THEM IN?! WHAT AM I SO AFRAID OF?!" He hugged himself on the cold ground, tears streaming from his eyes uncontrollably. One part of him wanted to give in and let them help, but another part hated feeling weak. He didn't notice he was being watched.

The next day, things between Roy and the other Hatzgang members were unbearably tense.. Neither side really spoke or made eye contact, they just sat in proximity to each other. Rob wanted to talk to Roy about it, but didn't want to risk them running off again.. Ross looked between his two friends, when he noticed out of the corner of his eye a flash of orange and white. Walking up to their bullies with an odd confidence, it was none other than the Spooky Boyz, Skid and Pump. In their little arms, they had two paper bags filled to the brim with assorted candies. They stopped in front of Roy, who only noticed them when Rob nudged him slightly.

"What are you losers doing he-"

"Here!"

Skid interrupted, placing the bag down before him, Pump doing the same. Needless to say, Roy was flabbergasted.

"...What is this.."

The older boy asked them skeptically. Skid and Pump looked to each other nervously, knowing they'd be in for a world of hurt if they told him why they brought him candy, but knew it was unavoidable.

"We saw you crying yesterday.."

Pump explained quietly, flinching when Roy jumped to his knees and yelled, "YOU WHAT?!" in a snappy voice. Rob and Ross stood as well, just in case Roy tried to attack the Spookiez.

"We won't ask, but you looked upset! So we got these to cheer you up! You like candy, right?"

Skid said while taking a step back from the Hatzgang, Pump nodding frantically and putting his hands up in front of his face out of fear. Roy was far too shocked that he was seen in such a state by THEM of all people to even TRY to beat them up. Rob smiled at them, and gestured for them to leave before things got out of hand. The Spooky Boyz said a quick, "You're welcome!" and ran off. Roy looked down at the bags of candy, kicking one over out of sheer anger before putting his hands over his face and screaming into them. His friends tried their best to calm him down, but it was too late. He was pissed off, and stomping his feet like a child having a tantrum. It felt just like a normal Tuesday for the Hatzgang.

Ross sneakily stole a snickers snack.

**Author's Note:**

> I was having a really bad time, so, like any reasonable person, I began to write down my frustrations in an easily digestible manner.


End file.
